


This Safe Haven

by WintersCurse



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Angst, Fluff, Found Family, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:07:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23785243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WintersCurse/pseuds/WintersCurse
Summary: People claimed the Shrieking Shack was haunted. It had been abandoned decades ago, but to five children it was a place of safety and calm(AKA Marauders Victorian AU)
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the Victorian AU you didn't know you needed

Leaning back against the wall, James slipped a thumb under his suspenders and winked at the girl across the parlor. 

She had long black curls that framed her dark eyes and cherry red lips. Her red silk dress left her collarbones and shoulders bare and flared out at her hips, falling down to the floor in mesmerising gathers. 

Too bad her father was standing beside her. 

He was far less attractive. Stout, with greying whiskers and a grey waistcoat that didn’t match his black blazer at all. 

The man nodded his greetings to James. “Well son? Out with it.” 

“I have a letter for you.”

Sighing, the man leant forward on his cane. “Now, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were new to your job. But I do know better, so I demand to know what you’re playing at.” 

Insufferable old man. Maybe his daughter wouldn’t be worth it, after all. 

She was so pretty, though. 

He pulled the letter out of his satchel and held it out for the man to take. 

“I was told to make sure you received it. It’s a letter of utmost importance.” 

The man snatched it, not even bothering to look at it before shoving it into the pocket of his waistcoat. “Is that all? You’ve wasted enough of my time already.” 

“Yes, sir. That’s all.” 

God he hated calling people sir. Especially insufferable old men like Cygnus Black. 

He bowed good day, winking at the girl, then showed himself out of the parlor and out onto the cobbled streets. 

Some rich old git was riding down the street, laughing as his horse splashed mud on the people walking by. They clung to the sides of the buildings, trying to avoid getting dirty. 

The old man went out of his way to get a group of young girls soaked in mud and rainwater. 

Clenching his fists, James forced himself to keep walking. He was in enough trouble as it was, and another fight with an influential gentlemen might have him losing his job- as well as any respect or chance for a future that he somehow still had. 

The man galloped up to a young couple, only turning away last minute. 

“Hey!” James yelled. “Cut it out!” 

Slowing his horse down to a stop, the man looked back at James. 

“I’m sorry?” The man said slowly. 

“Yeah,” James agreed. “You should be. What exactly do you think you’re doing, terrorising innocent people like that.” 

The man chuckled, dark beard bristling. “And what are you going to do about it?” 

“Come down here and I’ll give you a few knocks around the head. Or if you don’t want to be beaten in public, I’ll report you to the mayor. Your call.” 

The man’s laugh only got louder. 

Shooting him once last glare, James spun around and stomped off. This wasn’t a battle he could win. 

Nothing he could do would change anything. It didn’t matter how hard he tried, or how many people he helped, there were always going to be people who abused their power and used it to hurt people. 

And there was nothing he could do about it. 

So he went to the only place he knew no one could get hurt. The only place he didn’t feel an overwhelming pressure to help everyone and make them happy. 

A place only he ventured into. 

The Shrieking Shack. 

It was an old abandoned house with shattered windows and mold and cobwebs stretching over the brick walls. On a stormy day, the wind whistled through the cracks in the walls, and the torn curtains would flutter like soul-broken dancers. 

Many claimed it was haunted. 

But as James pulled up the dusty window and crawled inside like he’d done so many times over the years, he felt safe.


	2. Chapter 2

Remus Lupin was used to all kinds of pain. 

He was used to staying up all night in fits of coughs and tears. He was used to his limbs and throat burning while his head felt like ice. He was used to his bones aching and shots of pain running through his body. He was used to isolation, and knowing he wasn’t wanted. 

But he wasn’t used to the specific pain of not knowing what to do in social contexts. 

Not expecting her to agree, he’d asked his mum for permission to go outside earlier that day. 

And now, as he walked through mud coated streets, he felt all eyes on him. From the small children playing, to the wealthy women strolling, to the milkman making his rounds in the mid-morning. 

It was weird. 

For the last few months, the only person he’d ever seen was his mother, and she was all worry and heavy sympathy all the time. When she wasn’t busy fixing up the clothes of rich ladies, she would sit by his bedside, honeyed pitty tumbling from her mouth. 

His father didn’t have the time for Remus. He never had. And after the accident, there had been no doubt about it. There was no room in his heart for Remus. 

Remus didn’t mind. He couldn’t mind. 

Pulling his hands into the sleeves of his thin white shirt to try protect against the cold, he kept his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him. 

Not much further to walk now. 

The Shrieking Shack was cold and lonely, but Remus liked it that way. Spider webs and flowering plants tangled together in a way that Remus would have to write a poem about some day. The keyhole in the front door was chipped and lovely and beautiful in a sort of broken way. The shattered windows were like a mirror, a gateway, into a world strange and long forgotten. 

But Remus didn't go in through the front. 

Behind the house, there was an overgrown garden of purples and oranges and reds. White chairs still sat on paved paths, like a memory of a comfort long gone. 

The backdoor was easy to find, though it was covered in a vine with large white blossoms. 

It was difficult to open, though. It crackled and creaked as Remus shoved at it. But eventually it gave way. 

As Remus walked into what must have once been a dining room- with the table and cutlery and ornaments still untouched- he was surrounded by a comfort, a sense of belonging and home, that he received no where else.


End file.
